Whenever you see the term Grey Import you think of bikes with a dubious past in the hands of some grubby Oriental youth with rich parents who treats the bike like a disposable watch. It's not a label that fills any potential purchaser with much confidence but nevertheless, like many people, I was totally taken by these machines which ooze style and, of course, exclusivity for sod all money - relatively speaking. In actual fact the Japanese cosset their machines in a way we Brits would deem offensive.
A visit to the only importer in Yorkshire (back then) was in order. There it was, in between the more popular VFR's, FZR's and CBR's I saw it - probably the most subliminally beautiful object ever beheld by my eyes. A 1989, on a G-plate, gleaming black Suzuki GSXR250RRK. Complete with huge Deltabox style aluminium chassis, sexy recessed twin headlights and a 17000rpm red line! The paint itself was very special, a metallic finish but the metal flakes are blue so when exposed to sunlight it gives off an almost iridescent glow. Quite beautiful.
One short test spin later and I was hooked. As race replicas go, the riding position is reasonably relaxed and almost comfortable with a wide seat, narrow tank and not too low clip-ons. The pegs are set high but as I'm only 5'9'' they're not too bad. Pillions are another matter! However, for me this was a far more radical bike than anything I'd ridden before, resulting in such a twitch on the test ride that the dealer asked me if I was sure I'd passed my test! 2600 notes were handed over.
Anyone who's ever ridden a rare bike like this will know what it's like to feel ten feet tall. Which is just how you do feel because you can actually feel people's heads turning - whether it's the sight of the gleaming black race inspired bodywork or the unearthly growl emitted by the dinky silencer, I'm not sure, but it doesn't half feel good.
And, boy, does this thing handle, I remember thinking at the time, as the first set of bends were straightened out quicker than the my dear old GPz550 could ever have dreamt of. I'd never been able to bank a bike over so far before, or brake so late, with such confidence. A lot of this confidence is probably down to the wide, low profile tyres. At one point I didn't realise how far off the vertical I was until the toe of my boot scraped the deck - a most unnerving experience as I was only on my way to work at the time, so heroics were the last thing on my mind.
All in all, the whole plot is 100% stable up to an indicated 115mph which is the end of the speedo (actually 180km/h). This velocity can be maintained for as long as you can withstand the wail of 16000rpm from the four cylinder engine.
Last summer I toured Scotland with no ill-effects, covering around 300 miles a day, loaded with a tankbag, rucksack, tent and a sleeping bag. Motorways were cruised comfortably at 85 to 90mph and the bike managed a staggering 70mpg! More staggering because it was revved at 13000rpm! The tour only lasted a week because I ran out of cash and ended up coming back using petrol courtesy of my Visa card. Just as well the bike was so frugal. Good roads, though. You just have to be careful because a lot of the campsites don't admit bikers - no matter how flash!
The fairing also sports the legend SPES - Suzuki Power-up Exhaust System - don't know what it means but it must work well to give the impressively smooth power delivery throughout the range. With so much heady power it's just as well that the brakes are so hot. Bloody hell, has it got brakes! Twin discs and four piston calipers give eye-popping retardation - great for pulling stoppies outside the local high school. I, of course, don't engage in such childish activities. They are, however, both very powerful and progressive, giving an accurate impression through the lever of exactly what's going on below.
Further assistance is provided by an opposed piston device at the rear. Pad life is around 8000 miles, helped mainly by the bike's lack of mass, about 330lbs. Tyres seem to last that long as well, not bad for a replica and a lot less traumatic than a hot 1000. It's currently shod with Battlax's which are quite a pose, too - if you're into sticky black rubber, that is.
MCN rated the brakes of the 250 above the 6 pot calipers of the mighty stump puller 1100! I would not know as I've never ridden the 1100, but, let's face it, where in this country can you use the full potential of that behemoth?
The mill is basic GSXR, being oil and air cooled with four cylinders and sixteen valves, with a short stroke to attain 17000rpm - the tacho goes to 20,000! The FZR and CBR 250's rev even higher! I never crossed the 17000rpm mark, there was little point as the power was fading away by then.
Nothing on this earth sounds like the incredible howl generated by the tiny engine spinning at 17000 revs. MCN, when they reviewed the entire GSXR family, described the 400, again an unofficial import, as emitting a banshee wail at its 14000rpm red line but the 250 at 17000 revs is more reminiscent of a hideous primal scream from the sheer depths of Hades. Nice! They also said that the loony numbers on the banzai tacho would be a novelty that soon wore off. Trust me, I've had mine a year and it hasn't become boring. You do get used to it, though; that's just the way it is.
The bike's general reliability is helped by the nature of the power delivery. Silky smooth is the term. No peaks, troughs, power bands or flat spots. Just smooth, usable power from 6000rpm, building in a steady crescendo before the exhaust note takes on a subtle change at 10,000 before going utterly mental at 15000rpm plus. The tacho, incidentally, doesn't register below 4000.
The bike feels more comfortable between 9000 and 15000, sounds divine on the overrun. Motorway speeds of around 70mph are attained at a really quite comfortable 10,000rpm (Ducati owners cover your ears). Along my favourite runs, across the Yorkshire Dales, it's the silky power delivery that leads you to believe you're riding a much bigger machine, but all the time you know you're riding something special!
Right since day one the gear shift through the six speed gearbox has been slick in the higher gears at speed but engaging first often makes a bit of a clang which I don't think is a problem as it's never become any worse. The oil's changed every 1500 miles and every second change it goes to a dealer for a full service. In my experience it doesn't pay to leave servicing to chance - or to me for that matter - and particularly with the motor's revvy nature it deserves (though not necessarily needs) regular servicing. The cost is around 90 notes.
Most 250s, these days, are either working hacks or highly tuned two strokes, which I think sound like cat farts, so it's an interesting niche that the baby GSXR fits into. It's fast, utterly gorgeous to behold, economical yet it's light and flickable enough to show its illegal tinted mini-numberplate to many a much bigger bike in the curves. It' no RGV eater, though (45 horses are never likely to rock the boat), but I'd like to see anyone tour on one of those! On the other hand, things like ZZR and GPX 250's are no competition - they really are in a different league in terms of both outright performance and flexibility.
Reliability is something that I can't really comment on as it's still open ended. It always starts first press of the button (you don't get an electric boot on the strokers) on the choke, settling to a fast idle at 4500 to 5000rpm. Leave it for a minute to warm up, knock off the choke and it's ready to rock and roll. It does stall if you leave it running on the sidestand for too long (there's no centrestand). Starting recently went to pot when the three year old battery started to go off. Finding a replacement battery proved traumatic, I had to hand over £90 as it's extremely rare in the UK!
The same spares cost will turn up if the engine blows. However, it's a tough old nut despite being so high revving. It has a feeling of being unburstable with 10,000 miles on the clock, from a mixture of commuting and weekend blasts. In the winter I took the bus! I know, I know, a bus is no way to travel but it's better than a car.
For me, the best aspect of owning one of these techo miracles is the exclusivity. Every time I return to the bike when it's parked up I smile to myself because it stands out so much from the multitudes of sterile devices pushed out by most manufacturers (Triumph excepted). Anyway, one thing is for sure and that is I shall be keeping this cute little baby GSXR for a good while yet, and come the time of our parting I shall not hesitate to part exchange it for another import - maybe the ZXR400 based Kawasaki Ballius. They really do look neat!
Simon Hogan